


Something New

by meverri



Series: TMA Femslash Week 2019.5 [5]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol, Dancing, Disaster Gays Assemble, Multi, Post-Canon, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22102075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meverri/pseuds/meverri
Summary: Melanie and Georgie get married. Chaos ensues. (Day 5: Wedding/Proposal)
Relationships: Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Series: TMA Femslash Week 2019.5 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1586128
Comments: 24
Kudos: 130
Collections: The Magnus Archives Femslash Week 2019.5





	Something New

**Author's Note:**

> This is absolutely my favorite of the tmafemslashweek fics I've written. Please enjoy :) I'm on tumblr @hundred-separate-lines if you wanna chat

Basira had found herself a nice spot in the corner after dinner, and was eagerly waiting for Melanie and Georgie to get on with dancing already, when Daisy found her.

“Best seat in the house,” she said, by way of greeting. Basira nodded.

“I still can’t believe they managed to get The Mechanisms for the wedding band,” Basira grumbled, fuming. “I thought they broke up years ago. Wonder if they’re fans.”

Daisy glanced at her, confused. “What?”

Basira nodded towards the musicians, who were slightly hidden behind a huge flower arrangement that had, only an hour earlier, sent Daisy into a sneezing fit that had lasted nearly ten minutes. She’d had to disappear to take her allergy medication, which meant that she _definitely_ wasn’t supposed to be drinking the glass of whiskey she was currently putting to her lips. Basira decided not to press the issue.

“The Mechanisms,” she said. “I know I made you listen to some of their stuff, back when we got together. They broke up years ago. I never got to see them live. Glad I will now, I guess, if they aren’t just playing covers. I wonder if they were fans of What the Ghost, or Ghost Hunt UK, or something.”

Daisy was giving her an odd look, the same one that she had given Basira when she, stumblingly, had asked Daisy on their first date, and Daisy had replied that they’d already had four.

“’Sira,” she said, “can you tell me where Jon is?”

Basira frowned, then glanced over the sea of friends and relatives that had gathered in the small dining room for the reception. Skimming over their heads, she finally located Martin, engaged in conversation with four older women – aunts, at a guess. “Found him,” she said, and then paused, glancing around Martin’s shoulder-level and not finding any grumpy eldritch horrors hovering around him. “Wait, no,” she said, searching more thoroughly through the throngs of well-wishers and elderly relatives. “Where is he?”

“Basira,” Daisy started, but Basira wasn’t listening.

“Shit,” she said. “I can’t find him.”

“’Sira –”

“Where is he?”

“Basira –”

“If he’s taking a statement on Melanie and Georgie’s wedding night, I’m going to _strangle_ him –”

“ _Basira,_ ” Daisy said, grabbing Basira's arm and pulling her out of her panic. “Look at the _band_.”

“What?” Basira asked, turning her head. “I don’t –”

She paused. It was impossible. It was horrible. It was too terrible to even consider. But no – there, standing at the microphone, was Jonathan Sims, lead singer of The Mechanisms.

“Oh, god,” she said, and Daisy snorted.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know.”

“All this time, and it was _him?_ ”

“If you were such a big fan, how did you not know the lead singer’s name?”

“I listened to them in the archives _all the time,_ ” Basira said, “and he never said a _thing!_ ”

Daisy offered Basira her whiskey. She drained the rest of it in one go.

“Oh, look,” Daisy said, gesturing toward the crowd. “Martin’s coming. D’you think he knew?”

“ _Do I think he knew that his boyfriend was the lead singer of my favorite band?_ ” Basira hissed.

Daisy’s smirk did nothing to help Basira’s rising anger. Martin’s kind and open smile, when he arrived, made it worse.

“Hi,” he said, a bit breathless. “I’ve just escaped. They were asking me if I was married.”

“What did you tell them?” Daisy asked.

“Said I was a pouf, then panicked and ran over here. Why?”

“It’s a gay wedding, Martin,” Daisy said. “I don’t think they’d freak out about that.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want them to ask when I was going to propose. Old women freak me out. What’s wrong with Basira?”

Basira, who had been glaring at Jon for the entirety of Daisy and Martin’s conversation, huffed. 

“She’s upset that Jon is the lead singer of her favorite band and didn’t tell her.”

“Ah,” he said. He gave Basira an apologetic smile. She pinched his arm. He squealed, but then he laughed and turned back to the band.

As he did so, Jon stepped up to the microphone. 

“Hello, everyone,” he said, his face a bright red. Martin clapped, and Daisy wolf-whistled. He shot them both a glare. “If I could have your attention,” he said, “it’s time for the first dance.”

Melanie and Georgie swept towards the center of the floor. Melanie handed her cane to her mother, then allowed herself to be led to the center of the dance floor. When they’d stopped, she bowed deeply to Georgie, pulling off her rather ridiculous top hat and sweeping it in an arc away from her. When she stood, Georgie stole the hat and put it on her own head. The two of them held each other firmly as the music began to play.

“Really a beautiful wedding,” Daisy muttered.

“It is, isn’t it,” Martin said, his voice breaking. Basira reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue.

“Spectacular,” she said. “Does anyone know where I could get another drink?”

* * *

The middle of the dance floor was hot and loud. Jon and the band had played for about an hour before Georgie had started her “Ultimate Sapphic Wedding Playlist” and grabbed Jon by the waist for a dance. Daisy had wandered off somewhere, leaving Basira and Melanie dancing together in the corner. Melanie had lost her hat and her bow tie, somewhere along the way, and was now sporting Georgie’s veil in addition to the ostentatious blindfold she had insisted on wearing to the wedding.

“Did you really have to have your first dance to ‘No-Eyed Girl?’” Basira asked.

Melanie shrugged. “It’s funny,” she shouted over what Basira thought might be a One Direction song. Melanie frowned. “This playlist sort of got away from us, eh?”

“It’s your _first dance._ ”

“We had Jon do it all acoustic-y and slow! Isn’t that enough?”

“I guess,” Basira said. “Fuck, it’s hot in here.”

“I know,” said Melanie. “I’m thinking of taking the jacket off, but I don’t want to stop dancing.”

“You look very dashing,” said Basira. “Very dapper.”

“Thanks,” said Melanie, attempting a sort of modified Charlie Brown that nearly sent her tumbling into one of Georgie’s friends from college. “I wanted to look like one of those vintage lesbians, you know? Didn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.”

“You literally married a woman today, Melanie.”

Melanie beamed. “I did, didn’t I? Where is she?”

Basira craned her neck around an old man who was waving his arms around in a way that was, quite frankly, alarming. “I think she’s – no, wait – yeah, she’s doing the thing from _Dirty Dancing._ ”

“Aw, bless,” said Melanie. “I demand you take me to her!”

“Demand?”

“It’s my wedding, and I’m a bride, so _I_ have the authority.”

Basira rolled her eyes. “Right,” she said, and gripped Melanie’s arm, pulling her through the throngs of people to get to Georgie. As soon as Georgie noticed their approach, she flung her hands into the air, which was unfortunate, as she had been in the middle of dipping Jon. He landed squarely on his ass with an undignified yelp.

“Melanie!” Georgie yelled.

“That’s my wife!” Melanie yelled back, directly into Basira’s ear.

“I know,” said Basira.

“I love my wife!” Melanie shouted.

“I think I got that,” said Basira.

Basira released Melanie into Georgie’s arm and offered her assistance to Jon. He glared at Georgie.

“Ow,” he moaned.

Basira punched him in the arm.

“Hey!” he shouted. “What the hell was that for?”

“You didn’t tell me you were the lead singer for the Mechanisms, even though you _specifically knew_ they were my favorite band, you _absolute arsing –_ ”

“All right, all right, I’m sorry!” he said, dodging her subsequent swats. “I thought you knew!”

“How on _Earth_ would I have known that, Jonathan Sims, you _complete –_ ”

“Hey,” said Martin, appearing at Basira’s shoulder. “Sorry, but can I please borrow my boyfriend? You can have him back if you want to abuse him later.”

“ _Oi!_ ”

Basira sighed. “Fine,” she said. “Go be gross and gay somewhere else.”

“Speaking of,” said Martin, grabbing Jon’s hand, “I think Daisy’s looking for you.”

“Oh, thank God,” said Basira as Melanie and Georgie reappeared in her vision, trying to waltz to “Mama” by My Chemical Romance, which had just begun playing, and failing miserably. “I need to talk to someone _normal._ ”

Martin laughed. “She’s by the bar, I think,” he said, even as Jon began to tug him down and kiss him repeatedly on the cheek. 

Basira glanced at Jon. “You’re gross,” she said. He flipped her the bird.

Daisy was, in fact, by the bar, having a weird half-conversation with the bartender, a young man who looked like he might be one of Georgie’s cousins. When she spotted Basira, she hopped up from her stool and gave the man a halfhearted salute. He sputtered something as a goodbye before being pulled away by a nice old lady who was wondering if he didn’t have anything stronger than wine, deary, and Basira and Daisy were left to themselves.

“Our friends are idiots,” said Basira.

Daisy laughed. “D’you want to dance?”

“Oh God,” said Basira, but she let herself be pulled back to the dance floor.

* * *

“Last slow song of the night!” Georgie yelled into the abandoned microphone. “And then it’s just ‘Don’t Stop Believing,’ and then you all have to leave so Melanie and I can go and have sex!”

The few friends and younger family members who remained cheered. Melanie’s grandmother wolf-whistled; Georgie’s cousin at the bar looked incredibly uncomfortable.

The first few notes of a slow do-wop song began to play. Basira placed one hand on the small of Daisy’s back and pulled her close. Daisy leaned her head against Basira’s chest as the two of them began to sway.

“I really love you, you know,” Daisy mumbled.

Basira pressed a kiss to the top of her hair. “I love you, too,” she said. She squeezed Daisy’s hand. “Always will.”

“I know,” said Daisy. “I keep asking myself how I got so lucky.”

“Easy,” said Basira. “It was your incredible, incredible ass.”

Daisy snorted. “Thanks.”

“I just saw it, and it was like a black hole. I couldn’t escape.”

“You’re very kind.”

“I’m serious. I thought, ‘Oh my God, she’s got such a good ass. I can’t believe I’m going to sleep with her.’ And then I did.”

Daisy pulled back and fixed Basira with a skeptical glare. Basira winked. Daisy pulled her down for a kiss. Her lips were soft and a bit dry, same as they always were, and she tasted of whiskey and wedding cake. When they parted, Daisy stroked her cheek.

“Not to mention,” said Basira, “you’ve got abs for days.”

“Sap,” said Daisy.

“Yeah,” said Basira. She pulled Daisy back to her chest, and the two of them swayed together to the music. “Yeah, I reckon I am.”


End file.
